Hope Hurts... Or Does It?

Hope hurts.  It does!  Especially when you bring it along an arduous journey with you.  It's like packing a silver candelabra to hike across the desert expecting to use it when you arrive to the promised palace at the end.  The candelabra is your tangible hope for things unseen.  It is the taste of the splendid promise to be fulfilled.  But on a wearing trek through the desert it gets heavy.  It gets dusty.  It appears extravagant and wildly out of place.  And the longer you go through the desert, the more it seems unnecessary; even inappropriate.  It becomes a burden.  The passionate excitement that moved you to include the candelabra on such a difficult path has now turned into a resolute decision to continue on with it one day more.  Hope hurts.

That has been my experience with secondary infertility.  My husband, my son, and I long for more children.  Our desire is as appealing as a sumptuous palace after a battered journey.  Sometimes the months pass by in clumps, barely noticed.  Sometimes we are acutely aware of ever day in my cycle.  And the months when there is a delay in that all-telling sign are the hardest.  The "start date" comes in dread and passes without a hint.  That's when I remember my candelabra in my backpack.  I tentatively go to sleep at the end of that first day, wondering if I should remind my husband of it - to remind him of hope.  The next morning there is still no sign and I run to my backpack to check if I really do still have the candelabra with me or if it fell out during one of the unnoticed months.  There it is!  A tiny gleam of hope catches my eye! The first day with no sign that the heart wrenching journey will continue as it has is a day of cautious hope.  I never fully unpack the candelabra.  I'm just reminded that it (and my longing) are still with me.

The next day I race to get up and see if there is a reason to hope.  Still no sign!  I quietly mention it to my husband with the glint in my eye sliding down my cheek in a tear, painfully aware of other months like this.  Hope hurts, after all.  In his own private moment he will go and peak in the backpack to catch a glimpse of the promise.

But on that second day, at every hour my hope increases exponentially.  By the end of the day I've retrieved the candelabra and am swinging it along the path with me happily.  I've already calculated when the baby will come, how we'll shout the announcement from the rooftops, what names to consider...

By the end of that day the spotting starts.  It could be the egg attaching, I always tell myself, but I decide to tuck the candelabra back in the bag just to keep it safe.  I leave the bag unzipped so that I can fix my gaze on it throughout the night.

The next morning, the third day.  Nothing.  Is it because my body was laying down or could I really finally be pregnant?!  The hours seem longer that day and I'm terrified to even consider looking at the backpack because this is the day, in so many previous months throughout eight long years, that my heart is broken again.  And at the end of that day I am once again weeping and grieving for the child we can't have.  I have to tell my husband and bring him back with me from whatever path of hope he had considered walking down.

Hope hurts.  In those raw moments before the Lord I ask, "Why?!"  Over and over and over and with unspeakable tenderness He answers me, "Oh, how I love you."  I despised that answer for a long time because it didn't answer my question.  When that was the only answer He would give me I decided to consider how maybe it did answer my question, and I was overwhelmingly satisfied.  But that's another story...

As I accepted His answer to me, I also decided to accept that we would never have any more children.  I actually unpacked my candelabra from my backpack, buried it in the sand and walked away.

Three months later the Lord lovingly reminded me that He had not told me, "No."  I had simply grown tired of the burden of hope and given up.  So I went back to where I had buried my hope, dug it up, slung it back in my bag (getting a little sand in my eyes in the process), and trudged on with hope.  Resolute.  Because hope hurts.

This morning, almost exactly one year later, I was jolted to life before I even finished half a cup of my morning wake-up juice (er... coffee...).  The revelation I was given makes the words in the previous paragraph immensely sad to face.

We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you, because we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all the saints - the faith and love that springs from THE HOPE THAT IS STORED UP FOR YOU IN HEAVEN and that you have already heard about in the word of truth, the gospel that has come to you." Colossians 1:3-6a

I am not responsible for creating my own hope!  There are piles of it stored in heaven where nothing can damage it (Luke 12:32-34) - piles of hope that are mine for the taking!  Of course!  Just as His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-24) because they come from Him, not me.   There are more treasures stored in heaven, of which hope is just one.  But I didn't know until this morning that hope was one of them!

No king is saved by the size of his army; no warrior escapes by his great strength.  A horse is a vain hope for deliverance; despite all its great strength it cannot save.  But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is (found) in his unfailing love. Psalm 33:1-18

I ran to my backpack and yanked my burdensome hope out to inspect it.  Sure enough, on the bottom of the stand was stamped in an uncouth font, "Manufactured by Babs."  I looked it over more carefully and realized that what I thought was precious metal was really flaking spray paint (probably lead based and poisonous) with my fingerprints all over it!

Why on earth had I gone through all the heartache of lugging this trashy impersonation of hope through all these years?!  Of course that kind of hope hurts!

Now I want to run to all the descriptions of hope in the Bible and read them - no, immerse myself in them - in a new way without cynical eyes bruised from having carried a counterfeit hope around!

Hope is...

• Secure (Job 11:18)
• Will sprout again if cut down (Job 14:7)
• Joy (Proverbs 10:28, 2 Thessalonians 2:19)
• Renewed strength (Isaiah 57:10)
• The Lord's goodness (Lamentations 3:25)
• A glad heart and a body at rest (Acts 2:26)
• Courage (Acts 26:6)
• Salvation (Romans 8:24)
• A calling (Ephesians 4:4)
• Dependence on God (1 Timothy 5:5)
• Abundant provision (1 Timothy 6:17)
• Drawing near to God (Hebrews 7:19)
• Faith and confidence (Hebrews 11:1)
• A gentle and quiet spirit (1 Peter 3:4-6)
• Purity (1 John 3:2-4)

Amen and amen!  Hope heals!

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Hebrews 6:19

Learning to Listen

I'm learning to listen.  Period.  Just listen; without retort or excuse or submitting additional information.

I have a friend who is taking a counseling course, and the first two lessons and practicums were just on listening.  She said it was really hard to learn how to listen without contributing anything - no paraphrasing, no voicing personal emotions, no advising... Just listening.

Learning to listen well is a critical skill when working with people, but until recently I hadn't assessed how well I was listening to God.  The results were eye-opening.  Of course I've been listening to God; listening is a vital part of prayer.  However, I realized that I am guilty of selective listening (you know, the thing that drives us bonkers about our spouses, kids, or co-workers).   I could listen - just listen - to God for direction, choices, discernment, and understanding others, but when it came to listening to Him when He started talking about me I couldn't shut up.  I have gotten into a terrible habit of correcting God (as if there was something I knew that the omniscient Creator lover of my soul did not).  God has been trying to sing over me (as in covering me with His love and blessing), but I've been making it hard for Him to sing over me (as in being louder than the excuses I've been shouting back at Him).

On my journey to discovering God's design of me I've discovered a very self-critical spirit in me.  I've already been awakened to the truth of accepting grace for myself, and now I'm becoming aware of how important it is to just listen when God wants to teach me about myself.

I'm not sure why, but it's easier for me to accept the condemning insights - when God reveals motivation rooted in pride or bitterness rooted in jealousy.  I'm quick to listen, be convicted, and repent.  I almost wrote, "convicting insights" above, but conviction isn't limited to sin.  Conviction is being absolutely convinced of a truth.  Why is it so hard for me to be convicted of the blessings and gifts God has given me?

You see, while I'm eager to listen and accept a revelation of my failures (because I'm human and I expect to fail), I find it incredibly hard to believe God when He wants to reveal the wonderful ways He designed me or the marvelous plans He has for me; and thus I find it incredibly hard to listen - just listen - without insisting and pushing back with my excuses why what He has just lovingly told me could never be.

Here is my challenge:  It is true that I'm human and can expect to fail, but I have to accept that it is also equally true that I am a child of God, a new creation, and the detailed workmanship of His hands.  I am not just a lump of clay that fell off the wheel and now He's doing the best He can with me.  If I'm going to accept all that God is, I have to accept all that He made me to be.  If I'm going to accept all that He made me to be, then I'm going to have to learn how to start listening - just listening.  And may God give me ears to hear!

The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17 

 

The Hunt and the Treasure

Since we came back to the field there has been a lot of confusion, emotion, misunderstanding, shouting, and miscommunication. There has not been a lot of hope or encouragement just sitting around to be stumbled upon. It has become a treasure hunt for us, and I'm finding that the hunt has become the treasure. The hunt... in the midst of trials of many kinds.

In the last month I've been taking my time in the book of James. Right away it catches my attention because it's written to those "scattered among the nations." I can relate to that!  James continues with a reference to "trials of many kinds," which I appreciate because we don't all fight the same battle.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given.... Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him. (James 1:2-5,12)

This month I started 1 Peter, who also writes to those scattered throughout the world.  Peter also writes about all kinds of trials:

Grace and peace be yours in abundance.  Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!  In this (a new birth, living hope, imperishable inheritance, salvation referenced in previous verses) you greatly rejoice, though for now for a little while you may have to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.  These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold...may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed...(1 Peter 1:2b-3, 6-7)

In fact, many Biblical writers talk about suffering and trials, so why did Peter's take on trials stand out to me?  Peter recognizes that it's not necessarily the trials that we suffer from, but the emotion that is the constant companion to trials - grief.

When we face trials of many kinds, we do not battle circumstances; we battle in the territory of the heart.  But don't lose heart.  God has a plan!  God's plan of attack on grief is joy.  It's not that grief is the enemy, but grief unmet by the truth can decline into despair.

Here is the truth: You have been chosen by God.  Here are your weapons: Wisdom, grace, and peace.  Here are your battle strategies: Perseverance, praise, and thanksgiving.

The hunt for hope or encouragement in the midst of trials has become our perseverance, and in our perseverance we are finding the ability to give thanks in all things.  We are finding the uncharacteristic ability to not take things personally.  We don't understand what is happening, much less why, but it is very clear that God is still in control and he is bigger than even the emotional outbursts that circumstances drive people (including us) to.  In those moments I want to give up on people, but I cannot give up on God.

This moment, week, month, year, whatever... It is not the end all to life as we know it.  It will pass, as does everything, and probably something new will take its place to wear the crown of drama.  The important question is how have we passed through it?  Will God find our hearts to be bitter and sour, apathetic and wandering, or tried and true?  To where, to whom, or to what did we turn in our hour of need? Did we turn our desperate hour of need into a sweet hour of prayer?  Did we give thanks in all things or in all things raise complaints?  Was our struggle against flesh and blood or against the spiritual darkness that desires to consume us?

It is very natural to pass through difficult times in the shadow.  It takes the strength of the Spirit to turn it into  a hunt and therein find your treasure.

Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled; set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed.  (1 Peter 1:13)

Mirror, Mirror in My Heart

There are two kinds of reflections that we can pay attention to: Our true reflection and the reflections that distract us.

Our true reflection is seen when we look to the Lord and see ourselves reflected in the light of our Designer; the One who made us exactly as He chose.  The reflections that distract us are everything else - anything that reflects an image to us that is anything other than what God intends for us.

When I was little, I was actually banned from mirrors.  I was so distracted whenever I caught a glimpse of my reflection that my mom hung blankets and towels over all the mirrors in our house.  I don't remember it being an issue with vanity; instead I would make funny faces.  All that practice actually has given me a semi-famous reputation with my nieces and nephews because I have perfected "fish lips".  I suppose sometimes I would watch my twin sister and wonder how I could be so different from her if we were supposed to be twins...  But mostly I would make faces!

So I guess I've always been distracted by my reflections; it just turned to something more internal.  You see, your reflections can come from a variety of sources:

• How your culture/community defines the role you find yourself in (woman in ministry, girlfriend, sister, mother, wife, young, old...)
• The feedback you get after you complete something that you worked very hard at
• How you meet expectations (from yourself, from others, or expectations that you perceive to be from others)
• The media, social and otherwise
• People in your own life that you deem successful for whatever reason (for example, my sister is successful in fashion and hospitality, my dad is successful in science, my mom is successful in creativity, my brother-in-law is successful in languages, and my husband is successful in athletics)
• Compliments and hurtful comments

All of these things have a way of defining us, and we can look at ourselves as measured against these standards and we start to see ourselves, our reflections, through these standards.

Shame on us!  Shame on me!  For most of my life I have struggled with how I look (internally and externally) because I was focusing on the reflections that distract me from my true reflection!  For example, when I got married, I had a list of expectations of what a wife should be. All of a sudden I found myself in new role and thought I needed to be a new person for that role, somehow forgetting the fundamental truth that my husband asked the pre-married me to be his wife.  I also have this fear of disappointing people, so I tend to be a cruel task master of myself when I'm working on a project for someone else.  In truth, if I did somehow disappoint them with the results they wouldn't cast me from their presence forevermore, but I drive myself to tears during the project as if they would.  One more example: when I was dating my husband, he made a comment about the importance of physical health.  I didn't ask for supporting details in the moment; I just tucked the comment deep down inside a dark corner of my heart to dwell there and fester into a distorted reality that if I tip the scales toward obesity he will despise me. 

Essentially I have been living in a hall of mirrors at a carnival - where every mirror is different.  I could realign myself to appear more proportional in one mirror, but then I would have twenty more mirrors in which I still looked foolish!

There was a very specific night two years ago when I couldn't sleep because I kept seeing myself failing in all these different reflections that were before me.  I was not the woman in ministry that I thought I ought to be; I was tipping the scales toward obesity; I did not fulfill my husband's desires; I was going to ruin my son's chances at ever learning English properly; I couldn't trust anyone because I couldn't trust myself.  I saw myself as a disgusting placeholder for someone else who really ought to be living my life.  My husband, full of courage and compassion, confronted those reflections.  He didn't necessarily confront me, but he sat next to me and my mountain of snotty tissues on the couch and stared down each distorted reflection I had of myself and tore it apart with the truth.  One by one.  I had this picture as he determined to stick it out with me: I would spin around and point to another carnival mirror as proof to my diseased existence and he would take a chair in his hand and smash the mirror into glass splinters.  As soon as that mirror was no longer distracting me I would whirl around to the next mirror with another self-directed accusation, as though that mirror held the truth.  He would quickly follow me in that direction and, just as aggressively, smash that mirror.  One by one.  He did not allow any carnival mirrors to stand until all of a sudden I was alone in the hall, and only one mirror remained in the center.  It was God and it was a mirror at the same time. It was the reflection that God wanted me to see of myself.  That moment was quiet and reverent and gentle and there was no shame there.

Friends, please find someone who cares about you, and have them bring a chair.  Invite them to help you smash all of those carnival mirrors that are twisted and distorted!  It will be exhausting work, but you need to do it in order to get to your true reflection!  Invite someone to look in the mirror with you and tell you that what you are seeing reflected back at yourself is not accurate - and then smash it!

You were not created to reflect expectations, beauty, or circumstances.  You were created to reflect our one true God!  Only by standing in His light can we see our true reflection; the only reflection you need to be concerned about.

Do not love the world or anything in the world.  If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them.  For everything in the world - the lust of flesh, the lust of eyes, and the pride of life - comes not from the Father but from the world.  The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.  1 John 2:15-17

This seems like a good place to end, but I can't.... I can't end this with a sweet summary, "You are a princess of the High King" without at least mentioning what it means to find your true reflection in the Lord.

It means that He will show you all the wonderful ways He made you.  He will cause you to step back and simply marvel at His loving thoughtfulness to detail.  He will show you how He designed your life to be so purposefully integral to those around you.  He will show you how you work according to His design.

And...  He will show you how you are not working according to His design.  His light has a curious way into the dark places, and when we find our true reflection in Him we will see those places plainly (John 3:19-21).  And in His light we will be truly repentant and He will be truly forgiving (1 John 1: 4, 7, 9).  He will reach down and draw us out of those dark places and lovingly (and justly) set us in the places He has determined for us.

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be be made new in the attitude of your mind; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.  

And do not give the devil a foothold.  

Follow God's example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.  

For you were once in darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.  Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness, and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.  Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.  It is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret.  But everything exposed by the light becomes visible - and everything is illuminated becomes a light.  This is why it is said: "Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." 

Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.

(Ephesians 4:22-24, 27; 5:1-2, 8-16)

Last year I was mulling over the revelation that I am not in charge of my own sanctification.  I think that is what I am saying here.  I can't polish up my own image and spiritual life, and then  present it to God.  Because what mirror am I using as a measure of when I am "good enough" before I go to God?!  If I'm not seeing my reflection from the Lord, then it's just distracting and downright frustrating!  I can never be who God designed me to be if I am not seeing my reflection from the Designer Himself!

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.  Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12

So the next time you look in a mirror, remind yourself - this is what the world wants to show me.  Then ask

God, "What do You want to show me?

I am Ruth

Doom and despair.  That's how we are introduced to the story of Ruth and Naomi in the Bible.  I've always loved their story because of how it ends, but only in the last couple of years have I considered how their story started: displacement and grief.  Naomi was a foreigner living in Moab because there was famine and hunger in her homeland when she loses her husband and two sons to death's unrelenting knock.  She doesn't even have grandchildren yet!  What she does have are two daughters-in-law from the local culture, Orpah and Ruth.  When given the opportunity Orpah returned to her parents' home, but Ruth stayed with Naomi.

That is the moment in the story when I'm hooked!  I read breathlessly through their story to rush to the end where Ruth captures the heart of Boaz, the epitome of godly men, and they live their lives out together happily ever after in the lineage of Jesus.  It's a great story!  It's like Pride & Prejudice - I read it over and over again with the same anticipation for the moment that they realize at the time that they want to be together!

I can easily overlook the misery at the beginning of the story because I know the joyousness at the end of the story.  What knocked me off my feet was when I realized that Ruth didn't know the end of the story!  She endured all that grief, choose to leave her homeland to be a foreigner  in someone else's homeland, traversed they rocky ground along the endless length of the Dead Sea (which offers no nourishment to the body), and scaled the treacherous mountains from the lowest place on Earth up to Jerusalem.  She and Naomi, a grieving old woman, survived that arduous journey only to enter Bethlehem at the harvest time (spring), when the sun only gets higher and hotter day after day.  They were poor, travel weary, and alone.  Ruth bent under the sun and the scrutiny of gossiping critics day after day to provide for her mother-in-law.

Stop there.

Stop and appreciate the hardship that Ruth willingly endured.  Why?  She had no way of knowing that she would get a tiara, so to speak, in exchange for trial.  All she knew was the trial, the suffering.  So why did she submit to it?

Ruth had learned about faith in God. She didn't just learn that God exists and plays some kind of a role in the universe.  She learned about faith in God - that nonsensical absolute assurance that God is without a doubt active and interested in the world and in our lives so much so, in fact, that we dare not breathe without acknowledging his tender and powerful presence working all thins (including the doom and despair) together for the good of those who believe in him so that collectively we can give up our exhaustion for the glory of the One who loves us with an inseparable and unconditional grace-filled love kind of faith!

Deep breath...

When you learn that kind of faith the trial dims in comparison.  You can look above and beyond and cling to the One who is in absolute control.

That was the kind of faith that has moved all the great ones into great stories.  Not just Ruth and Naomi, but Noah, Abraham, David, Rahab, Peter, Paul, Corrie ten Boom, A.W. Tozer, and.... me?

All these people were still living by faith when they died.  They did not receive the things promised; they only saw and welcomed them from a distance.  And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth.  People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have opportunity to return.  Instead, they were longing for a better country - a heavenly one.  Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God... Hebrews 11:13-16

I am Ruth.  I am a foreigner living among the Jewish people.  I do not know the end of my story here.  In fact this particular chapter of my story has a lot of conflict and discouragement in it.  I am Ruth.  I chose to endure trial because my faith is greater than my suffering.  I have no idea what God has called me to or for, only that he has called me.  I am Ruth.  I journey by faith, not knowing the end.

Remember those earlier days after you had received the light, when you stood your ground in a great contest in the face of suffering... So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded.  You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised... We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved. Hebrews 10:32, 35-36, 39

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. Hebrews 12:1-3

Mental Aperture f/1.8

I can relate to author Ann VonKamp, who relates that her tools of introspective focus are ink on a blank page and the lens of her camera.  In fact, in writing this I'm penning my thoughts on the first fresh page of a new notebook.  I can't tell you what a giddy joy this is!  I actually closed the door to mute the other sounds in the house so that I could revel in the feel of the ink slipping across the page and the sight of my heart taking shape.

My other favorite tool to study perspective in my life is my camera.  My dad taught me to love what a camera can see that human eyes can't.  What interferes with our eyesight is our mind.  Our minds are always adding subtext to what we see, and our minds are not always the most trustworthy source for unadulterated truth.

I know my mind, in particular, loves to overload my sight with details and stress about what everything I'm seeing implies.  You know, the violation of the command, "don't worry about tomorrow for tomorrow has enough trouble of it's own" (Matthew 6:34).  Yep... Jesus emphasizes that because he knows we're inclined to be that way.  I often have to remind myself that even with a tomorrow filled with plenty of trouble, his mercies are also new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23).  There is a day-to-day reality of spiritual living, and I'll come back to that idea a little later.

However, when I raise the viewfinder to my eye something profound happens: that overwhelming subtext of my mental taskmaster is temporarily short circuited!  I can only see that which fits in the frame of my camera.  My favorite thing to do is play with the depth of field (how much of the picture is in focus and how much of the picture is blurry).  I can focus my camera on the petals of a flower and not even notice the trash can behind it!  In photographic terms I'm talking about the aperture.  The more open the aperture is, the tighter the area of focus in your frame.  How I've come to think of it, though, is the smaller the f-stop, the smaller the area of focus (f/1.8 for a really blurry background versus f/22 for a sharp landscape shot where every detail is in focus).

I love f/1.8!  I wish my mind would work in f/1.8.  I strive for a mind that sees in f/1.8!  It's scriptural, actually.  The striving comes in in the renewing of our minds (Romans 12:2), and the f/1.8 relates to where our focus in life is.

I started this week in Hebrews 3.  Right away there is this verse: Therefore, holy brothers, who share in the holy calling, fix your thoughts on Jesus.  Refocus that mental aperture to f/1.8 so that you can see the perspective God wants you to have.  Matthew 6: 33 reads, "Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and everything else will be added to you."  Peter, bless his heart, had an f/1.8 focus when he got out of the boat and his eyes were focused on Jesus, but then his mind switched to an f/22 aperture and started looking around at the overwhelming context he found himself in and started to flounder, fall, and flail (Matthew 14:28-30).

Last week I went on a photography tour in the Negev with three of my friends.  We were in the Judean wilderness before sunrise, not knowing what dawn's light would reveal to us.  My first impression when I saw morning reaching around the landscape was, "Ugh. Empty brown hills and junky housing cluttering a landscape shot where I could superimpose a verse later."  What a laugh!  I was trying to spiritualize my f/22 corrupted mental subtext way of seeing things.  At any rate, I was there to take pictures, so I raised my camera to my right eye and my whole focus changed!  I started seeing those same ugly hills as being skillfully crafted.  The junky houses looked absolutely brilliant with the sun rays bursting out from behind them!  I noticed life in the barren landscape - small samples of vegetation persevering to survive.

I was at f/1.8.




And then something more amazing happened.  People started emerging from those junky houses and inviting us to come in.  It was a Bedouin family (the modern version of Abraham - desert dwellers without a permanent structure they call home), and the Bedouin are famous for their hospitality.  This family, even in their poverty, was no exception.

I kept my camera handy, but it was alternatively up or down (depending on how much tea or bread they put into my hands at the time).  I captured as much with my heart as I did on my SD card.  The Lord had already switched my mental aperture to f/1.8, and this is what I "captured":

• A face lined with struggle yet filled with joy. The matriarch of this family was actually from Bethlehem and had married into a Bedouin family.  She lived daily life always as a foreigner.  I can relate...
• Matted, tangled, dusty hair framing expressions of curiosity and wonder.  I'm sure the group of us in our Western clothing, fancy cameras, and strange language was quite the sight first thing on a Wednesday morning!
• Eyes dripping with grime and infection, like an alley cat we warn our innocent children not to touch.  I took pictures of the children with heartache, but their mothers melted with joy when they saw the images of their children on the back of my camera.

My camera's aperture setting of f/1.8 changed my focus.

It was this experience that was on my mind when I opened up Hebrews 3 this week.  Of course, as I mentioned earlier, it starts with an f/1.8 focus on Jesus.  Once we have the right focus we're told to hold on and hold firmly to our courage, our hope, and our confidence in our belief that we have accepted through faith.  Just to emphasize the importance of that, the writer of Hebrews poignantly illustrates that the Israelites had tried and tested God for forty years and still hardened their hearts.  For forty years they saw God's delivery, redemption, provision, and proof of his very nature being God, and the still did not have the faith to believe in him (vs. 7-9).

So resolve to "encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness" (vs. 13).  Something is actively trying to rend our courage, hope, and confidence - our f/1.8 perspective - from our grip, and that is sin's deceitfulness.  It's that deceitfulness that turns my world ugly and rewrites the subtext of what I see with my eyes.  It's the lies and unbelief that torques my mind's lens to a distorted focus.  My perspective of the world is alarmingly similar to the eyes of the Bedouin children - full of wonder and curiosity, but clouded with infection.

My camera and Hebrews remind me to reset my mental aperture, to fix my thoughts on Jesus and in so doing I will gain a whole new beautiful picture of what I previously determined was ugly, bothersome, discouraging, or even debilitating.  The key to holding firmly to my courage, hope, and confidence is to have some daily disciplines (discipline being the very act of holding on) that involve what my friend calls, one anothering:

If one anothering daily keeps our mental aperture from becoming out of focus, I want to do more one anothering:

• Encourage one another (1 Thessalonians 4:18, Hebrews 3:13).
• Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling (1 Peter 4:9).
• Be devoted to one another in love.  Honor one another above yourselves (Romans 12:10).
• As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another (Proverbs 27:17).
• As I (God) have loved you, so you must love one another (John 13:34).
• Do not deceive one another (Leviticus 19:11).
• Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you in order to bring praise to God (Romans 15:7).
• Greet one another with a holy kiss (Romans 16:16, 2 Corinthians 13:12). ;)

While my camera helps me refocus my perspective of what is in front of me, imagine what all this one anothering can do to my perspective on life!

Where Did THAT Come From?!

I was coasting along, taking things one small punch at a time, absorbing upsetting news and a long list of complaints.  All.  Day.  Long.  Maybe absorbing isn't the right word...  I swallowed it all like a bothersome lump in my throat.  On top of that there were delays and a schedule to heed to.  The delays only reminded me of the failures of my system of control, and it all seemed to be unraveling at an alarming pace for me.  Those sour lumps I had swallowed suddenly started ejecting themselves from my stomach via word vomit.  And the word vomit was ugly.  It came with a stench and a punch (literally) and it was all directed at my failings.

Right away, as I'm confessing this, I see two truths clearly:

1) It is not my responsibility or in my strength to ingest the problems around me.  Rather than swallow the lump, I should have dissolved it by handing over the responsibility to the One who can do something about it.  Why didn't I take the time to pray and cast my burdens (1 Peter 5:6-8)?  Because it seemed small enough?  Insignificant?  I thought I could handle it and, honestly, I liked the high I was experiencing being able to cope - especially after being so fragile for so long.  But what is that other than pride?

2) What is in a person's heart comes out through their mouth (Matthew 15:18), and what came hurling forth from mine was nothing short of ugly.  How can the Holy Spirit give me such open eyes to see others with grace, and yet I'm so blind to myself?!  Something is really rotting in me... It's not just low self-esteem; my heart has turned a dark corner.

I had an ah-ha! moment later that day.  Some friends came over to watch a Beth Moore simulcast about grace.  This is the truth that left me "slack-jawed," as she put it: Realize that God being disappointed (especially in you) does not appear in Scriptures!  God is not disappointed in us!  Disappointment, by definition of the word, is an unmet expectation; it's a human malady.  God is omniscient.  He knows everything - past, present, and future - and can therefore not be surprised.  He knows every detail of your life, so how can He not know what you will do.  Now He is displeased by our lack of faith, but not disappointed.

That truth was so immediately freeing!  I know what happens in human relationships when someone is disappointed.  There is a break in communion.  There is a fracture of trust.  There is a separating of association.  The consequence in disappointment is to be removed for a period of time from the other person's grace or favor.  That's why disappointing someone you care about hurts so much, because you can't bear the shame of what you've done to your relationship with them.

That shame does not exist within your relationship with God because He is never disappointed in you!  You are always full-in with Him.  When you stumble or fall flat on your face with revealing skid marks across the bridge of your nose, He is not disappointed in you!  He stoops to pick you up with all tenderness (Psalm 113) and sits close to you to make sure you're all right, first of all, and then speaks with tenderness about what happened (Psalm 116).  His only goal is to restore you and to make His joy complete in you (Psalm 86)!

"This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in His presence whenever our hearts condemn us.  For God is greater than our hearts, and He knows everything" (1 John 3:19-20).

God, I implore You - TAKE THE UGLY FROM MY HEART!  Remove my blinders.  Cleanse me from the lies.  I want Your eyes for me!  I want to know - full-out-head-to-toe-live-out-loud-KNOW - how complete Your grace is for me.  Show me today and then never stop.  Please...

And So the Onion Peels

Culture has been described as an onion. Immediately you can determine the obvious things about a new culture: shape, color, smell (most definitely the smell), and how it differs from other cultures that are already familiar.  But many layers does an onion have, and there is always something to peel back and discover (and, to be honest, learning about the layers does sometimes bring tears to your eyes)!

This morning I examined another layer of culture I have peeled back since returning for my second term:

1) I now recognize accents in Hebrew that I didn't know were there my first term. For example,  there was a mom in the kindergarten that spoke English and Hebrew, and I thought she sounded perfect in both.  I have spoken with her twice this week and realized that she, in fact, has quite a strong Ethiopian accent!  It's a small victory for my progress in Hebrew; at least as far as my listening comprehension goes.

2) It is acceptable to stare at people while you walk by.  They will also stare at you.  It's a really strange experience because it's as though they are watching the news on a screen,  be it a television or computer or tablet.  They simply stare at you without reaction or acknowledgement that you exist in flesh and blood.  And when you stare back at them,  it's as though your staring into a TV camera; so of course you are looking in their direction, but it's not really them that you see. So the exchange of stares occur quite detached from any sort of definable interpersonal interaction.  We just stare completely void of any uncomfortable glancing away or nonverbal suggestion that the golden rule of interacting with strangers has been violated.

I wonder what else is in this layer?

Feasting on Joy

It is the last day of Sukkot (the Feast of Tabernacles), and I am in a reflective mood.

"Live in booths for seven days... do your descendants will know that I had Israelites live in booths when I brought them out of Egypt. I am the Lord your God." (Leviticus 23:42-43)

"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands... while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened...  We live by faith, not by sight.  We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body, and at home with the Lord.  So we make it our gal to please him, whether we are at home n the body or away from it." (2 Corinthians 5:1, 4, 7-9)

In regards to the sukkah (the booth)... This is the point:  All this, too, shall pass.  Hold lightly the things of this world - possessions, ability, achievements, disappointments, even grief - for all these things are temporary.  they will pass with our "earthly tent" and this world as we know it.  All these things will be replaced by joy (2 Cor. 5)!  Certainly the rituals of the daily grind happen in the sukkah like they do in the house - meals, gatherings, cleaning, rest... What sets it apart is the reminder that our surroundings (mind-numbing-and-at-the-same-time-overwhelming circumstances, day-in-and-day-out-life, never-quite-belonging-context, my-world-versus-your-world) are temporary, and in that context we are to find joy through thanksgiving.

Have you ever asked God, "Exactly what do you have in mind for me in this place?"  That question generally appears when you are in a place of seemingly aimless wandering.  You see God.  You don't doubt Him, but when you look around the immediate present of your life you realize that you are in a desolate and difficult place with no hope of purpose.  Isn't that the situation of the Israelites in the desert... for 40 years?!

And so enters the significance of Sukkot (the Feast of Tabernacles).

"... after you have gathered the crops of the land, celebrate the festival of the Lord for seven days...  rejoice before the Lord for seven days..." (Leviticus 23:39-40)

"Be joyful at your Feast - you, your sons and daughters, your menservants and maidservants, and the Levites, the aliens, the fatherless and the widows who live in your towns (ahem... EVERYONE).  For seven days celebrate the Feast to the Lord your God at the place the Lord will choose.  For the Lord your God will bless you in all your harvest and in all the work of your hands, and your joy will be complete." (Deuteronomy 16:14-15)

The whole concept of God choosing the place of worship is quite thought provoking.  The design of the tabernacle is to be assembled for atonement and thanksgiving wherever God has placed the worshiper.  It wasn't always on a mountaintop with a breathtaking view of the world around you.  Most times He calls for the tabernacle to be raised in the sweaty grit of suffocating reality... and to be joyous...  How can that be possible?

There is something in finishing a period of hard work - to stop and assess the work that has happened, and the blessings that God has brought therein.  Stop.  Take stock. Give thanks.  There is more than one kind of harvest. Seek the Lord for the ability to see it.  He promises that whoever seeks after Him will find (Matthew 7:7-8)!

Even beyond the grace of the immediate present, don't forget to cast your thoughts to the past.  What has God redeemed you from and for?  What were the miracles God has already done?  If you are nearsighted in this area, you will be short sighted for the future.  Look for God's hand in generations past, even.  Celebrate His work in others' lives.  Don't stop after one or two occasions of God's greatness - keep going!  After all, Sukkot is supposed to be a time of joy!  What more effective way to be filled with joy than to have your remembrances filled to overflowing with the goodness - the GREATNESS - of God?!

I do not...

We were sitting on my porch, my friend and I. She was reminiscing about a book she was reading (by Shauna Neiquist, I believe). A revolutionary thought had presented her with a pronounced freedom - to create a list of things that you are not. For example, "I am not a gardener," my friend admitted with a smile. "I'm not either," I jumped to agree! She looked at me doubtfully, because we were surrounded by my potted plants. I felt like I owed her, and everyone, an explanation.

I am not a gardener.

Marshall teases me mercilessly that I don't have a green thumb, and, in fact, he doubts that my thumb is even brown! So why do I have plants? Well, I love them for one thing! I just can't keep them alive or flourishing! That doesn't really answer the question, does it? Let's go back to the revolutionary idea of what I am not or do not do:

• I do not garden for therapy or stress relief.
• I do not garden for bragging rights.
• I do not garden because I'm naturally talented at it.

I do garden to remind myself to be diligent in spiritual disciplines.

I am not, by nature, prone to nourish plants nor myself. The plants are such a stark visual reminder of what happens when depraved of proper nourishment. The buds don't result in blooms, even though there is promise peeking shyly at you. The leaves dry up on the edges and become fragile and brittle. The dust settles on the leaves and the pests aren't bidden haste. All of these indications that my plants have not been nourished or cared for properly.

When I see my plants in this condition, it immediately provokes me to take an inventory of my spiritual disciplines.

There are shockingly similar indications for my spirit. There remain gifts that aren't stirred up, my capacity for grace and kindness shrivels up, and the lies of the enemy nest themselves inside my mind without any truth to eradicate them.

As a new creation, I need to be connected to the vine in order to flourish and bear fruit. I can't do that without nourishing myself regularly with the truth of the Living Water, and submitting myself to the care of the Lord. He knows best when to put me in the sun, when to prune my branches, when to add minerals to my soil, and when to protect me from damaging elements - because He is the one who created me!

I "know" that truth. It's one of the earliest Scriptural truths that I learned and there are countless songs about this truth. But unless I see something despairing for lack of proper nourishment, I can learn to live without nourishment. After all, the world gives me countless examples on how to live so! I become blind and numb to the fact that there is a fuller, deeper, more beautiful life available to me. So I am not a gardener, but I do garden.

That reminds me... I need to water my plants...

"It's the hardest thing ever!"

I'm beginning to discover why veterans of learning a second language were so realistic with us about language learning being the hardest thing you could ever do. I think it's hard for different reasons, depending on who you are.

For me the technical aspect of learning the language isn't the hardest thing I've ever done. I think finishing the mini-marathon (and yes, I only walked it) was much harder. Adjusting to another family culture after getting married was MUCH harder! I KNOW that maintaining discipline in certain areas of my life is THE hardest (by the way, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all the sponsors of my chocolate love affair).

What makes language learning so hard for me? I think it's a combination of two things, or maybe it just boils down to one thing: emotional drain. I'm so exhausted at the end of the week from learning and remembering all the new material that I simply want to collapse at the end of the week. I don't have the spare energy to parent well or to communicate respectfully or lovingly to Marshall, much less get myself out of the apartment and practice my Hebrew on actual Israelis. Yet I know that I can't abandon those responsibilities. So I have to dig much deeper, because my personal supply of perseverance has been completely depleted.

Dig deeper? That just rang a bell! A.B. Simpson, founder of the C&MA, was keen on the deeper life - a deeper spiritual life that was constantly nourished by the filling of the Holy Spirit. "Your mercies are new every morning!" celebrated a famous psalmist. Oh that I would remember to rely on those mercies and so glorify His name because of endurance that defies human limitations!

The apostle Paul defined perseverance as the ability to keep your faith through a difficult situation, and at the end of that situation - to still be standing. That's where I would like to find myself at the end of the week - still standing (as opposed to draped over the loveseat buried beneath a cozy blanket that semi-effectively drowns out the sounds of reality).

Unexpected Flatmate

(The following is a post from December that I never finished until now.)

Sooo....

Marshall and I are finding it a struggle to study our Hebrew tonight, knowing that we are returning to school after a short holiday break and doing our best to procrastinate. We have studied here and there throughout the break, and we promised ourselves that tonight - finally - after Russell went to bed, we would dedicate ourselves to only Hebrew.

That must be why we were preparing hot beverages, washing dishes, picking up toys... In the name of all things distracting, Marshall deciced to dust the top of the blind box above the kitchen window. He drug a chair over to the window and set in with great throroughness. Suddenly his entire body jerked in reaction to what he had just discovered.

"Babs," he spoke hesitantly. "Do you remember the morning a couple months ago that I told you I found a lizard in our apartment, but that he ran away and I couldn't find him again?" His voice trailed off as though he really didn't want to finish his story.

I braced myself.

"I just found him." Very carefully he used his cleaning rag to pick up our unexpected flatmate from his perch. He didn't give Marshall a fight - in fact, he was rigidly formal about the whole matter.

Sounds of the Season

At this time of year you might expect that the "sounds of the season" might be the Salvation Army bell, the dying battery-powered music of the Christmas aisles, and strategic conversations of navigating the seasonal sales. While the spirit of the season lives strong in my heart, the sounds (moreover, the season) are much different.

"Do you think we need our jackets today?" This is just plain funny since we're getting daily reports of how many inches of snow there are in the Midwest.

"Maybe it will rain sometime this week!" I think I've previously mentioned how we have that tingle in our stomachs as though we're anticipating a fresh snowfall at the beginning of the season. Russell has a Looney Toons umbrella, and he's only been able to use it once now. Let me restate that: He's used it more than once, but it was only necessary to use once.

"Oi!" Russell has been using this exclusively for anything that requires effort or has surprised him.

"How do you say that?" Is it lach or lecha or leho or lee? Is it tsarich or tsricha? Why does the word for urgent sound so foolish? Does it have to sound like I'm using vulgar language in English when I talk about Marshall eating?

"This is difficult for me to hear." As we progress in ulpan (in both language and relationships with classmates), we are asked to explain why we moved here if we are not Jewish. This is a relatively safe environment to share our hearts with them, as long as our words are seasoned with much grace. We mostly get two reactions. The first is "So you're with Jews for Jesus?" and the second is "This is difficult for me to hear." As we hear their stories, we've learned that so many Jewish people have been aggressively pursued by a well-meaning organization to the point of harrassment. They are tired. When a conversation opens up with us and they are assured that we are NOT with that organization, they inquire more about the local Messianic Jewish people. Many of our classmates have come to an religious Jewish experience rather recently (as opposed to being secular), so it's difficult for them to have embraced their religious heritage and to consider "abandoning" that heritage. It is a constant struggle to explain that Messianics don't abandon anything, but rather find fulfillment in Jesus - He is the fulfillment of so many of their prophecies! It is my prayer that God will convince them because we can't. They have grown up believing that if you believe in Jesus you necessarily abandon everything you were. In one sense that is true: To die to self is to gain Christ. However, in Christ we are made "complete" - not ripped in half.

So the season I write about is not a holiday season, but a season of adaptation and preparation. Our ears and hearts are wide open and receptive to the lessons we are confident God will pour into us. May the sounds of this season be reflective of hearts that are following after God.

Labor Intensive

In the course of studying my vocabulary from ulpan (Hebrew language school) I find myself giggling something fierce. Hebrew is like a classic comedy sketch: Me is who and who is he but he is she. It's confusing, isn't it? So I decided to straighten it out by repeating the words over and over again: he, he, who; he, he, who; he, he, who. I find that my teeth are gritted together, my forehead is wrinkled in concentration, and I'm trying to push because I've slipped into Lamaze breathing! And this is just with the pronouns!

On a more serious note, today was our 8th anniversary. Last night I experienced some homesickness. I dreamt of going to Burger King for a ham, egg, and cheese croissant and their delicious coffee (only to have the coffee machine broken and the cashier dump my drink on the floor when I asked if I could buy orange juice as well). I'm trying to figure out where the homesickness is coming from. We had a teammate over for dinner, and she is staying in the bungalow for a few days this week. The bungalow is where we started out, so maybe some of it is memories from those first days. I think another part is the knotted feeling in the pit of my stomach as we face another phase of "what am I getting into?" with ulpan. On the bus today Marshall was saying, "I am capable of learning Hebrew. It is possible to learn Hebrew. God called us here so we must learn Hebrew." over and over again. It's good to say those things to yourself - to remind yourself of the facts when your emotions threaten to take control. I think, also, it's been three months since seeing friends and family from the States - past the "short term" point - and I simply miss people that had more common appearances in my life until now.

So let's count our blessings and name them one by one:
1. Shawarma and filalfel (hee, hee, hee)
2. An apartment that is PERFECT for us in size, location, and with quite a view
3. A husband who doesn't mind me thinking out loud and likes to study with me
4. A son who still delights in life
5. Teammates who genuinely care for us and we can count as friends
6. Access to a car so that we can travel places on Shabbat
7. Instructors at the ulpan who are interested in our success
8. Care packages that have fun surprises and chocolate in them
9. Russell's improved behaviour at school
10. Cheap produce

I could go on and on with more serious things and more silly things, but the important thing is that my mind is now in the right place. May praise for my God always be on my tongue!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...

Do you know the feeling you get when you happen to look up from your menial tasks and see that it's snowing outside? It's sort of a fluttery-excited-your-heart-starts-to-jingle kind of a feeling. I got that feeling yesterday!

No, it didn't snow. It rained!

I thought a pot was boiling over on the stove, but dinner was in check. It took Marshall and I a couple minutes to figure out what the noise was. Finally he happened to look up from aforesaid menial tasks and noticed that it was raining. We stood on our balcony like giddy teenagers watching the rain coat the streets with a silver sheen. We couldn't stop smiling as we drove to Shabbat service, admiring the patterns of rivers on our windshield. I even urged Marshall to park a little further away than what was available just so we could enjoy the rain longer.

*sigh*

It rained!

One of These Things is Not Like the Other

There are several terms that are translated into an English equivalent that I'm familiar with, but it often turns out that more than one of these things is not like the other. Below are a few of my observations.

"Kindergarten" There are three years of kindergarten here: Pre-kindergarten for 3-4 year olds and kindergarten for 5-6 year olds. While Russell was enrolled in "kindergarten", he's actually in pre-kindergarten. A better English equivalent would be "pre-school"

"School bus" In September we thought, 'Boy, tourism is really picking up here!' due to all the charter buses. After two weeks of wondering what the attraction to the residential neighborhoods were (yes, we're a bit slow), we figured out that the charter buses were being used as school buses!

"Mall security" With the exception of the small family owned stores, every store you walk into has a metal detector and a security guard posted at the door. After a week of shopping here you get used to putting your purse on the table next to the metal detector and walking through the metal detector while the guard carelessly looks through your purse (if at all) and you continue on your way (even if the metal detector is going off). At first we were suprised with all the security. Then we were surprised at the lack of attention we got from security. Now we realize that Israelis live with a keen sense of awareness about their surroundings. They aren't worried and they don't overreact. They are just aware. They have had lifetimes of knowing what looks suspicious and what to give attention to. For example, if something is left unattended on a bus, any given Israeli will notice it and calmly start asking those around them if the parcel belongs to them. If not, then the word spreads throughout the bus to locate the owner - again, calmly. Eventually the owner is found and scolded. We haven't been around for when the owner isn't present.

"Lemonade" Doesn't that sound refreshing? Especially on a sunny 95 degree day (which is what most of our days are like here)? However, the lemonade here is bitter more than sour and definitely not sweet!

"Electrical plugs" Where do I start? The electrical current is never consistent. They don't always stay in the wall (it depends how crumbly your walls are - remember, all the walls and ceilings are concrete). They usually spark when you plug or unplug your cord. They are at the level of my shoulders. They all have three holes, but they were two diaganol slats and a hole. Most 3 prong electrical items have three round prongs. The advice we got from our teammates? Drill out the slats to be holes. Ok...

"Partially cloudy" This refers to a season and not a day. I think that season starts in October or November, but by Febuary the season is over and we return to "sunny".

"Grocery shopping" If you are used to shopping at Aldi's, then the only challenge you'll face here is finding the food equivalents to what you're looking for. They have most of what you are used to, but it's in different packaging with irrelevant pictures and in different quantities than what you're accustomed to. The produce is the best deal in this country - it is twice the size of American produce and half the cost! As in every shop, you bag your own items. Oh! And when you put your purchase on a credit card they will ask you how many payments you want to make. I'm still not sure how that works, but a lot of Israelis will split their purchase into three payments.

"House cleaning" I'm still experimenting with this. The advice I've heard is to use lots of water. The floors are tile, so the tools of choice are water, a squeegee with a long handle, and a cleaning rag for over the squeegee. There are drains in the floor in almost all the rooms. What I do is sweep and crumbs the dust off the floor, mix a little cleaning product with hot water, and then dump part of the bucket on the floor (which is probably why the outlets are so high off the ground). Then I wrap the rag around the squeegee and scrub as best I can. When I'm done scrubbing I remove the wrag and squeegee the water to the drain. I actually like this last part because then you don't have dirty water sitting on top of your floors to dry. The floors get pretty shiny if you squeegee well, and they feel amazing in your bare feet. I know when it's time to clean the floors when I start preferring to walk around the house in sandals rather than bare feet. Another note on cleaning: In the States I hated to dust and could avoid it for long periods of time. Out here we get the equivalent of 2 months worth of dust in a week. So I've begun dusting more regularly out of necessity.

"Checking account" We just got a shekel account and most of our information is in Hebrew, so we have a lot to learn. What we noticed right away was that you don't need to have any money to have an account. Their technology for signatures impressed us, too. We signed an electronic pad five times each until the computer software found a consistent average. I forgot to use my middle initial in one signature and was rejected, so I had to sign several more times. I don't think there is such a thing as "free" checking, so we're expecting some fees. There are no debit Visa cards here, but we do have an ATM card.

"Salesmanship" While customer service is a novel idea here, salesmanship is spectacular. As a customer, you feel like the salesman truly wants you to have the very best product. If you are even browsing the products, a salesman will come over to you and open the packaging to display or even demonstrate it. I felt a lot of pressure to buy at first, but now that I know it's a common technique I am just entertained. What do they do with all those opened boxes that customers don't buy?!

"Family plan for cell phones" In the States this would mean that you have a block of minutes that every phone on the famiy plan chips away at. Here it means that you have a block of minutes that you can call one other phone with. So our family plan here is only $10 a month and I have 300 minutes I can call Marshall's phone with. Then you pay per minute when you call someone else (which is like 2 cents a minute). By the way, you have to have a shekel checking account in order to get a cell phone plan. Otherwise you get a prepaid phone and pay about 30 cents a minute.

Things I've Noticed about Russell

1. He is very interested in where Jesus is at all times. "If Jesus goes to school with me, then will a little Jesus go to school with you and Daddy?"

2. His tennis shoes have holes in the toes.

3. He knows the names of his classmates.

4. He loves bus rides (and often falls asleep).

5. He has started taking the same group of things and seeing how many different ways he can categorize them: color, shape, size, function...

6. He asks for forgiveness on his own initiative (as in just now when I meant to save a draft of this post and he pushed random buttons on my computers that resulted in it being published).

7. His control over a computer mouse is getting REALLY good.

8. When he is mad at you he growls.

9. He will correct our Hebrew pronunciation, even though he won't actually say the words he knows to anyone.

10. He learned to disguise the taste of green beans by mixing it with the food he does like.

Throw the Baby Out

Do you know the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water"? In the case of culture and language learning, that's what has happened. After extensive personality indexing and learning style testing Marshall and I have completely reversed roles! He has become the bold "forge ahead even if we mess up" personality while I have reverted to "hide in the apartment until I know I can say it/do it with some measure of confidence".

We're learning our numbers right now. I have been tested and proven as a visual and experiential learner, yet I find myself not clicking with the vocabulary until I have heard a recording of our tutor reciting the vocabulary. I'm forcing myself to look at the numbers written out to bridge the gap between sound and form. Marshall, on the other hand, is preferring to look and remember before listening - he who is such a strong auditory learner!

In short, throw the baby out!

Making Friends and Influencing People

This is a relatively short post summarizing the friends (ok, acquaintances) we're making here:

1. M and X (the hardware store family) - X is in his 20's and always wants to give Russell candy, whereas M loves Marshall for all the money we've spent there.

2. E - Our downstairs neighbor (male, but it is also a popular woman's name) who came up early this week (as in 6:30 a.m.) to complain about all the noise we were making... Neighborly relations improved after I took Russell down later to apologize. It doesn't help that they sleep below Russell's room, so the cars on the tile floor are like fingernails on a chalkboard for the people below. It also doesn't help that these neighbors don't go to bed until 3 a.m.

3. Curious Creature with no name - This is the lady whose lap I fell into on the bus last week. I've seen her twice since then and the last time we were verbally greeting one another and blowing kisses to each other as I disembarked the bus.

4. E and D - This woman and her 3 1/2 yr old son live two apartments beneath us. D also goes to Russell's school, but since we have no common language there isn't much to this relationship yet.

5. S - a female soldier posted near our neighborhood. Russell created a game to play with her on the bus, which led to conversation. She gave us her phone number. I reluctantly called her, thinking she was just being polite. She was THRILLED to receive the call. Apparently she had been calling the gans (kindergartens) in our neighborhood trying to find us. She has invited us to share a Friday evening meal with her family soon. Her family lives in a kibbutz near Jericho.

6. The others are too nominal to blog about immediately. We'll see how God works things out.

Curious Creatures

This post could be about the cats in Israel - the fact that they are everywhere, but no one's pets. They have public litter boxes, but they have no home. They scavenge the garbage and run from affection. Curious creatures, these cats.

Yet it's not about cats that I'm writing about tonight. Rather, it's about the little tottering old Jewish women. They are also everywhere, seeming to belong to no specific place. Their legs are wrapped up in Ace bandages so it's easy to understand why they inch along down the sidewalk, onto the bus, or in the middle of the market - oblivious of the mass congestion they're causing behind them.

Most of these curious creatures cover their heads as a sign of their faith, and the choice covering is what I call the "80's Easter hat". The fabric prints of their outfits never match, but sometimes they show their fashionable side with some bling. Today on the bus home one of these curious creatures, older than the rest I've observed, had a glittery "Bewitched" t-shirt on. Put together with the white hair, bandaged legs, Easter bonnet, and toddling shuffle - I couldn't help but giggle.

I also giggled at another of these curious creatures on the bus who was very much enjoying the bread she just bought at the market. She would bring it to her mouth to eat like a sub sandwich, and while there was just a little bit hanging out of her mouth, she would take her chubby fore finger and resolutely push the morsel the rest of the way in. She would often glance up at me with a mischevious twinkle in her eyes that practically shouted her enthusiasm for this snack. You see, these other curious creatures either sleep on the bus or scowl as though the entire world has disappointed them beyond repair. To see such enjoyment for something as little as bread was, again, conducive to giggling.

I'm certainly glad that this particular curious creature and I established a nonverbal repor, because in the next few moments the bus lurched and I (not yet having gained my "bus stance" while standing during the bus trip) toppled backwards into her Ace bandaged-wrapped lap.

"Shlixa!" I said, very apologetically (that word can be an apology or an insult depending on how you use it). "Beseder?" which again is a generic term for "fine" or "ok", but all I know are generic terms at this point so I'm supplementing it with all sorts of non verbal behaviour.

"Beseder," she nodded, rubbing her tortured legs.

And then she giggled.